And that, my friends, is how I ended up at an axe-throwing parlor (??? is that what the cool kids are calling it???) on Friday evening. Our friend’s younger brother decided it would be an awesome spot for a birthday party, so off we went. I was pleasantly surprised with the outing. We had a lot of fun. I didn’t always manage to stick the axe, but the two times I did were a bulls-eye and just off-center. Go me!
Other than dipping our toes into axe throwing, we had a great weekend. My mom came into town, so we hung out with her. When we showed up at the dumpling’s daycare Friday afternoon with Grandma in tow, the little dude nearly lost his mind. Grandma’s here! Oh boy! I had to laugh the next morning when my mom could barely take a moment to herself without the dumpling calling out Grandma?! Where are you? You know what this meant right? It meant I could actually pee in peace. Oh sweet, sweet bliss.
We were completely lazy Sunday, I mean, almost pre-child levels of laziness. It was awesome. We watched Daniel and Dinosaurs and football and read books. I highly recommend you get yourself one of these lazy Sundays.
On a much less positive note, I went to have my blood drawn again today and realized that I would have been 6 weeks along tomorrow. Weird. I wonder when that will pass? When will I stop pausing on Tuesdays and wondering what symptoms I would have been experiencing or how my belly would have changed my then? And what’s going to happen when September 14, my due date, rolls around? I hope I’ll be ok. I try to be ok, but there’s not exactly a “normal” way to process all of this.
In the meantime, I’m just trying to find the things to enjoy. Sharing a bottle of champagne with my mom. The fact that this new class format is kicking my butt to teach right now and how much more challenging it would be if I were still pregnant. Little things like that help me keep a positive frame of mine.
To end on a funnier note: the dumpling pulled out a new trick this weekend. He’s recently acquired the verbal skills to protest diaper changes. When he has a dirty diaper and he knows it, he’ll say no wipes though, of course, we have to use wipes. He told me the other day that they’re cold, which I get. Probably also starting to dislike the invasion into his personal space, which I also get. Anyway, Saturday he did something different. I had him on his changing table and he laid there and said no wipes and then he busted out I sick! complete with the perfect amount of woe as he covered his eyes with his hands. I dutifully
wrangled him took his temperature and offered some Tylenol. He seemed just a bit too pleased with the Tylenol is all I’m saying.